


Payback

by ktbl



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Kinktober 2020, Massage, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26696929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktbl/pseuds/ktbl
Summary: Sonya rocked back on her heels as she poured a little bit of oil into her hands, letting it warm to her body temperature. “You’re due for one of these. You were slow today in sparring.”“I was slow?” Flat on the bed, Kenshi turned his head sideways on the pillow. “Remind me, who won?”“You were still slow.”--Kinktober  2020, Day 9: massage
Relationships: Sonya Blade/Takahashi Kenshi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	Payback

Sonya rocked back on her heels as she poured a little bit of oil into her hands, letting it warm to her body temperature. “You’re due for one of these. You were slow today in sparring.”

“I was slow?” Flat on the bed, Kenshi turned his head sideways on the pillow. “Remind me, who won?”

“You were still slow.” She looked down at the broad back in front of her, lit only by the warm light of her bedside lamp. It spilled a pool of light halfway across the bed, throwing part of her partner into shadow, but was just enough to see by for her purposes. He was a mass of skin and muscle, marked by lines of scar tissue. He was in excellent shape despite his age - both of them were, no matter how the years kept on creeping past - but the ravages of time couldn’t be avoided forever. “Some of this has to be aching. You’re due,” she repeated, dropping both hands to his back. She made long, firm strokes upwards with her hands to the base of his neck, and then lighter strokes back down his sides to the small of his back. He made a muffled noise as she continued the effleurage, working the oil across him.

He let out a long, low groan of satisfaction as she began to knead into the thick knots of muscle in his shoulders. “Maybe I’m a little sore.”

She let out a little crow of victory at his concession, digging the heels of her hands in, and then beginning to work the muscles with more care. “Good. Can’t lose my partner because he’s gone ancient and arthritic.”

“I’m not arthritic,” he said with indignation, and she smirked, continuing to work her oil-slicked hands along him.

“You’re scarred to hell and back again.” She found a hard spot in the muscle by his scapula, straddling his lower back to get a better angle on it. “You’re damaged goods, at any rate.”

“As if you’re in pristine shape.” He reached a hand down and along her, awkward but brushing against her leg.

“Better ’n you are. You were slow on the downswing with Sento, and you let me get a block in and a few kicks on you I shouldn’t have.”

“And I landed a kick to your stomach that sent you skidding on the floor,” he countered lazily, eyes closed beneath her ministrations. He groaned again, more softly, as her fingers dug and prodded and smoothed out the tension.

“Yeah, you got me,” she allowed; maybe it had been too easy, given the all-over tightness she felt briefly. “Oh, come on. I can feel that.”

“I worry.” He proffered a half-smile. “You’re never that easy.”

“It’s been a long week, and a long day to cap it off.” Her hand moved down his back, trying to find the places he’d been favoring. “Gods know a shower and bed was all I had planned when I got home.”

“And then I showed up.”

“And then you showed up,” she agreed. Her fingers trailed back up his spine, following the rise and fall of vertebrae beneath the skin, careful of the delicate nerves. Her hands pressed down with more strength at the base of his neck, and she pressed her thumbs in. He sighed beneath her, mouth falling into a lax smile of satisfaction. “Haven’t seen you around in a month and you sneak in, surprise me and make me spill my coffee, and interrupt a conference call. The least you could do was a sparring session.” She found a knot and worked it loose until the muscle moved easily beneath her hands again, and sought out another, and then a third, easing them all into nothingness. He muttered something, a swear or a benediction or maybe just a half-voiced moan, but he sounded relieved; that was all that mattered.

“One month was enough… two months is definitely far too long. I do not know who you fight while I am gone, but you aren’t doing enough.” The room filled with near-silence, broken only by the night sounds on the base and the rhythmic sounds of both their breathing.

She pushed and pressed, kneaded and smoothed, and dropped a kiss on the soft skin at the base of his ear. He responded with a sound of pleasure, a soft groan of surprised contact against what she knew was almost too-sensitive skin.

Satisfied, she moved down along his thighs so she could turn her attentions elsewhere. She began kneading and working the muscles in his lower back and earning herself another low throaty sound of pleasure. Those were the sounds she liked, the deep ones that he would loose when he was genuinely happy. The tension in his body was clear, and she wanted to work as much of it out as she could. He deserved better than being a tense, knotted mess; he deserved some peace.

“Don’t really get to get a good workout when you’re not here,” she said into the silence, pouring more oil in her hands. She shifted down again, fingers digging into the muscle of his thick thighs as she rested on her knees, just over his calves. The fresh oil glistened in the half-light until she worked it in with long, steady strokes. “They’re all either too afraid to fight me for real and risk laying me out, or they’re not good enough to do it, or they’re too cocky and it becomes no challenge. I just wait around and dodge until they tire themselves out. Roll over.”

“Is it worth me staying, for the intelligence I get?”

“If you’re asking the officer - it’s worth the intel every time you go, even if you come back with new scars.” She smacked him lightly on his ass. “I said roll over.”

He did so grudgingly, and she pointedly began working on the fronts of his thighs, avoiding contact with the erection stirring within arm’s reach.

“And if I ask the woman?”

“If you ask me, it’s a toss-up. You do damn good work, Kenshi. I don’t know how you do it, telepathy aside. But we’re slowing down. And I like having you at my back. Means I can keep an eye on yours, too.” Her hands slid over a fresh injury, mostly healed but the flesh still pink. It was tucked high on one thigh, one of the few places with no armor plating. “I see shit like this and I get worried. How old is this? More than two weeks?”

“Three, I think. Other guy isn’t around anymore to be a threat.”

“Other guy isn’t who I’m worried about.” She climbed off the bed and rooted around in her nightstand, pulling out another bottle. She poured a dollop of thicker, viscous vitamin E oil in her hand. Sonya settled herself again at a new angle to carefully work the fresh scar tissue. “It’s this guy who still thinks he’s invincible that I get worried about.”

“Nobody’s taken me down yet.”

“One day, you won’t get back up.” She worked the injury slowly and carefully in a manner learned from years of application on herself as well as on him. “I want that to be a long time from now. I need my XO in decent shape. Work’d be hell without you.” They sat comfortably in near-silence until she had massaged it to her satisfaction, oil shining in the fresh pink scar tissue. “Any better?”

“I’ll tell you yes in a week, but right now it hurts and you’re a terrible woman.” He looked toward her with blank white eyes, the irises gone pale and milky with time.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” She slid her hand, still slick with the thicker oil, down between his thighs. Her eyes stayed on his face, caught the telltale shudder as her hands cupped his balls, slid along his half-hard shaft. “You interrupted my meeting and knocked me across the floor. You won two out of three. Time for a little payback.”

“Sonya Blade does not know the meaning of altruism,” Kenshi answered, sucking air in through his teeth. She tightened her grip on him, hand twisting from base to crown and back again.

“Damn right. You’re going to make it up to me tonight.”

He let out a groan, his fingers digging into the sheets. “Of course I am.” She could tell by the tension in his arms that he wanted to reach for her, but was restraining himself. Sonya let out a soft chuckle, and continued to work her hand along his cock. When she hit the base, she slid both hands away to the insides of his thighs and began massaging them. Kenshi groaned again, this time with frustration. “But you’re going to get some revenge first?”

She looked to his face, caught the small grin tugging at his lips. “Damn right,” she repeated, fingers digging into the hard muscle, and then drifting upwards to cup his balls for a moment. Her fingers trailed up further, over his stomach and leaving four small trails of shining oil where they crossed his skin. He hooked one ankle around her lower leg and reached for her, hands closing around the back of her neck and pulling her down to him.

He kissed her while his fingers pushed into her neck, digging into the tense places he always did, and she moaned into his mouth, eyes fluttering closed. She felt a burst of warmth through her body as Kenshi’s fingers hit a spot at the base of her neck, and she propped herself up on her elbows, tilting her face into his shoulder.

“If you’re trying to earn your way into my good graces, that’s a start,” she said slowly, lipping at his skin. He chuckled, working both hands harder on her shoulders and back. She lowered herself to lie against him, feeling the hard heat of his erection smooth and oiled against her thighs.

“Maybe you’ll go easy on me.”

“Fat chance.” She kissed the side of his neck, going soft and loose under his hands, sliding her own beneath him. “Not the way you tried to kick my ass on the mats today. Not when you humiliated me in front of my soldiers.”

“Sometimes it’s good for them to see you’re not invulnerable.”

“Except I’m supposed to be, as far as they’re concerned,” she countered, lifting her head up slowly, moaning as his hands drifted lower. “Invulnerable, perpetually solemn, no sense of humor. No fun. Ice bitch.” She eased herself upright, his hands pressing into the small of her back, spreading wide and pushing in with each fingertip.

“Right,” he said, hands drifting down to her thighs, pushing her gently back. She caught the hint of a frustrated look on his face as she moved well past his cock, and she wrapped her hands around him again. She gripped his shaft lightly, hand slick with oil and also drops of his own precome, and slid and twisted her hand along him. She kept her eyes on his face, gone expressive and unguarded in their privacy. “This is - not what I’d had in mind, Sonya.”

“Massage, happy ending, right?” She shifted her grip, focusing on the pads of her fingers, and his mouth sagged open. She watched him with satisfaction, the noises she coaxed from his throat, the inhalations when she stroked here, tugged there. The frustrated sound when she reached for the oil again, adding more to her hands, fingers and hands playing along his length, crown to balls, until his hips were arching off the bed of their own accord.

“Stop,” he said, voice thick and almost hoarse. “I want to be inside you.”

“I think I can manage that.”

She rose up on her knees for a moment, and then sank down atop him, as if the bare minimum of effort. He slid easily inside her and she let out an exultant moan as they settled flush at the hips. His hands held down on her hips, keeping her in place as if to adjust to the new sensation, before they crept to her lower body, hunting out the tight knots of muscle. A distraction, then - a delaying tactic. She made a soft noise of amusement, and she relaxed atop him as pleasure washed through her. Even now - even this, he was trying to make sure they were square, no debts between them. Damn, but she loved this man, even though she felt stupid as a middle school girl with a crush to admit it.

She rose up slowly, his hands sliding back down, cupping the curve of her ass and kneading at muscles that were by no means tense. She lifted up again, torturously slow and until he was almost all the way out of her. Equal torment for both of them; she loved the way it felt as he slid into her, the way her body clung to him and didn’t want to let go. Her motions dragged a low sound from his throat, neither whine nor growl. She dropped back down with equal precision, beginning a slow and rhythmic pace, enjoying the extra sensation from the oil.

“As good as you are with your hands,” he murmured, his hands curling around the backs of her thighs, pushing himself upwards ever so slightly. “This is by far my preference. I can feel more of you.”

“All about that, huh?”

“Tell me you prefer that to this, and I will stop.”

She dropped her hands to either side of his shoulders and kissed him, feeling more than hearing the chuckle he made in response. Her hips rose and fell, filling herself with him him and drawing herself away at turns. Words turned to grunts and groans, Kenshi coaxing moans and sighs from her until her world had gone and they had given logic up and replaced it - for the time being, at least - with simple, wanton pleasure. 

Between the friction and the constant work of his hands playing across her body, stirring up every erogenous zone she had and some she hadn’t thought about, her climax slammed into her unexpectedly. She froze atop him, crying out; he held her hips steady, working to continue his movements and continuing to drive himself into her as she pulsed around him. One hand reached up to cup her face, his thumb running from the corner of one eye downwards along her cheek, swiping across her lips. She caught his finger in her teeth and let go, kissing it gently.

His hand drifted back down as she panted, palming her breastsalmost roughly, and she continued her rise and fall, letting him set the pace with the urging of his hands and hips. As Kenshi went taut beneath her, she dropped down to stretch out atop him, finding his mouth with hers. He held her tightly, sealing his mouth to hers as he came inside her, as if the circuit was complete. Not two, but one - at least until they needed to breathe.

She considered it optional, and felt him pull away.

“It would be extremely hard to explain.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought it hard enough I couldn’t ignore it.”

“Telepath,” she snorted, dropping her head to his chest. She rested her chin on his chest and felt it rumble with silent laughter. “I could use a bath after this.”

“You’re not wrong. We both could. But who’s going to get it running? I don’t imagine you’re going anywhere soon, and you have me pinned down.”

“That,” she said smugly, “is what telekinesis is for.”

“Now I understand. You didn’t miss _me_ , you just missed my powers.” His hands spread out over her back, holding her in place. She caught the flare of blue in his eyes as he called on his powers. The sound of running water carried from the ensuite bathroom moments later.

“Maybe a little.”


End file.
